It was dead of night when the doorbell in Grimmauld Place, 12, rang, waking up portrait of Walburga Black. Sirius and Tauriel both grabbed their weapons of choice: a wand for Sirius, and a curved dagger for Tauriel.

No one would ever come to this house so late at night.

Or early in the morning, depending on your point of view.

The ringing persisted.

The elf and human ran down the stairs, not bothering with the screaming portrait. Tauriel pressed her back to the wall next to the door, dagger clutched tightly in her fist, ready to strike the offender. She nodded to Sirius, and the man opened the door, pointing his wand into the intruder's face. Tauriel saw how his expression slackened with surprise.

"Harry?!"

The elf was surprised too and stuck her head around the doorframe, and indeed, there stood Harry, his hair damp from the falling snow, half-turned to the street.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. The plan was that Harry had to spend Christmass break in Dursley's household. As much as no one liked it, it did give Harry additional protection, so that it'd be harder for Voldemort to trek the boy down even beyond the walls of Privet Drive AND Hogwarts.

The boy scowled and made to enter the house.

"Not so fast," Black drew his wand higher. "How we met?"

Now Harry's scowl could rival to late Thorin Oakenshield's. "You mean that time when you scared the living shit out of me in Little Winging, or when you broke Ron's leg?"

"Alright," Sirius visibly relaxed and stepped aside. Harry quickly crossed the threshold and, dumping his trunk by the troll leg umbrella stand, all but ran in the direction of kitchen, leaving wet boot-shaped traces behind.

Tauriel and Sirius exchanged a look, to which Sirius just shrugged, and waved his wand, making his mother shut up.

When they entered the kitchen, Harry has already taken off his jacket, and was now standing by the fireplace. He was wearing the old Dudley's clothes, hand-me-downs that he was always forced to wear at his aunt's. Thankfully, the boy owned some fitting clothes that didn't make him look smaller and homeless. Sirius saw to that.

But right now Harry was in those too big baggy clothes, and having just arrived at 4 a.m.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, well, seriously.

"I am not coming back there," came a cold reply. "Whatever Dumbledore says, I'm not coming there. I don't care about blood magic."

Tauriel bit her lower lip. Something was definitely wrong here. It was no secret that Harry's family life was less than ideal, and given the tails of stories she had heard, Tauriel was quiet sure that no child should be allowed near Petunia and Vernon.

"Harry," Sirius began, but the Potter interrupted him. He still hadn't turned to them.

"So uncle Vernon started insulting my parents again during supper. Nothing I never heard before, but then he moved to you," he gave a hollow laugh. "Started talking like you're a liability, like you can't do anything, that you should have stayed in prison to rot. I told him to shut up. We started to shout at each other. And aunt Petunia just sat there, like nothing was happening, Nothing at all! And then-," Harry made a pause. "He struck me."

Sirius sucked in breath.

"This.. hadn't happen in a long time," Harry carried on, unaware of Sirius mouthing 'in a long time'. "Dudley, I never thought that he'd do this, but when uncle was going to punch me the second time, he stopped him. He stood between us, and told me to get away. So I did. I took my things, and ran from that damned house. I'm not going back. Sod them."

He finally turned to them, angry and shaken. Due to the poor light in the hall earlier, Tauriel didn't see a bruising welt on the boy's left cheekbone before.

"You are right, you are not going there," Sirius next to her proclaimed, and strode to hug his godson (son, really, in all but blood). For a moment Harry looked like he wasn't going to allow physical contact, not that Tauriel could blame him, but then he gladly wrapped arms around Sirius.

For a moment Tauriel felt a pang of guilt for those words she said back in summer. How could she ever blame Sirius for surviving? It was obvious, that without him the boy would drift, like a lost leaf in the water.

Then Harry let go of Sirius. Black patted him on the shoulder. "Alright," for a moment he just watched Harry. "Alright. Sit down. I'll find you some butterbear. We are bound to have something weaker than firewhisky..."

Black strode off to the cupboards, and the red-head saw his hands were shaking slightly. Harry seemed pretty shaken as well. Speaking of Harry. Tauriel strode to him, and gently, but firmly took his face into her hands, tilting it up. The bruise was already dark, and way too close to temple. "He could have knocked you out," she said quietly. Sirius swore quietly behind them. She ignored him in favour of peering into Harry's eyes. "And you are concussed. How did you get here?"

"By muggle transport," he grumbled. "It took me a while to wait to the 11 pm London bus."

"Why didn't you take that infamous Knight Bus?"

Harry frowned in confusion and his cheeks slightly coloured. "It never occurred to me, really."

He really is concussed, Tauriel thought, and felt her blood boil. No elf would ever treat a child, even a dwarvish, one like that. There were few cases of abuse known to elven society, but the child was always removed to a better home, and parents often spent their lives in cells, or were sent of to patrol duty in far off parts of Mirkwood.

That is what happened to Tauriel's own parents: sent off to southern part of forest, died in a fight with too many spiders. Thranduil wasn't even upset with loss of two more elves when the news came, though he did spend next week consoling young Tauriel, who still hoped for... Now, Tauriel didn't even know what she could have possibly hope for then. She certainly would send Durselys to southern parts of Mirkwood now.

Instead, she brushed Harry's bruise carefully with her fingertips. "Better?" She asked and Harry nodded vigorously. "How-?"

"I took the edge off, but I left the bruise. When Dumbledore sees it, he won't dare to send you there," the elf explained, and then, impulsively, kissed the top of Harry's head.

"Here's butterbear," Black dropped three bottles on the table, and set into a chair next to Harry. Tauriel drew another chair with her leg, and dropped into it, on Harry's other side.

For a while they set quietly, just drinking their beers, until Harry spoke.

"Tauriel, why are you wearing Sirius's bathrobe?"

Both adults choked on their drinks.